


Heroism Demands Little Kindness

by BlooBlu



Series: Heroism and all its nonsense [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: (mild?) descriptions of spiraling/anxiety attacks, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Anxiety, Bad joke ik, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Children who think they're adults, Crime Fighting, Deceit's name is nathan because the 1st part of this series was written before POF, Fire, Found Poetry, Haha really gettin into the shit now arent we?, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nonbinary Deceit | Janus Sanders, Protective Morality | Patton Sanders, READ VDLE FIRST OR THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE, Semi-Graphic Description of Corpses, So many more tags to be added, Trauma, Violence, gays being gay, probably gonna be less in-depth with the tags on this one because I feel kinda like they're spoilers, taekwondo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26254441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlooBlu/pseuds/BlooBlu
Summary: Roman Kingsley is a superhero. A superhero with a lot of past trauma and who is way too young to be a superhero, but you already know that. You've heard his struggles with being a hero and what that means for his loved ones. But what about when normal life springs itself upon him as he finally grows into the not-so-mature adult we all knew he could be? And what about Virgil, who's finding himself stuck between two worlds - vigilante and average teen with ptsd?Meanwhile Logan is getting the break he goddamn deserves and what the hell is going on with Patton?(Those of you who have read my works should know that I'm REALLY not one to try and rate my works, mostly bc I don't wanna tell yall what you are and aren't prepared for, but this is going to get. Dark. And more serious than vdle bc thats just how my brain works.)we'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming soon when hyperfocus returns to Sanders Sides related things
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Heroism and all its nonsense [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907545
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	1. Roman Kingsley: hero, brother, friend

It’s a sunny day in New York, the wind blowing a little more intensely than usual, and Roman just saw his brother almost get decapitated. 

You’d think a supervillain who called themselves “Tiger Beetle” with an incredible speed boost would rely more on running and quick, low-damage attacks - but no. Their whole shtick is blades. Lots and lots of sizable throwing knives, shurikens, and a really big knife that was obviously meant to look like a sword but was still way too short to be one, shut up he knows more about swords than this fiend! Partly because he’s holding one of his own - shimmering red and just opaque enough that you couldn’t see anything through it, but if you squint, it’s not all solid red. 

Accompanying said sword is an equally glittery and bright red shield - though a much darker shade, and completely solid to accommodate the logo printed on the front - a large crow flying over a majestic castle. A little bit of his and Logan’s symbols, a finer detail of hi costume that most didn’t seem to appreciate. Probably because he was bashing their face in with it, or blocking a particularly overzealous attack. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have quite as good an aim as Steve Rogers - and thus was fairly useless against the larger shuriken that had come within a few inches of severing Virgil’s head at the base of the neck. 

Less unfortunately,  _ he  _ is. Faster, that is to say. Than the shuriken. Fast enough to tackle his brother-in-arms to the ground in time to, you know,  _ save his life. _ And yet, despite this, the feedback he was receiving for this spectacular feat was… less than spectacular. 

“God dammit, Princey, get off me- maybe think before you use yourself as a fucking battering ram  _ on asphalt!?!?!”  _

Alright, fair - he does have a good twenty pounds and significantly more muscle than Virgil - sorry, Vee, on the field - and getting tackled in the middle of the street would have been unpleasant even if those things  _ weren’t  _ true. 

But principle demands that he not give in, and also he finds it hard to be very sorry when the alternative would have been rapid, unpleasant death. 

“I’m sorry, did you not see that  _ massive shuriken  _ aimed straight for-” 

“If I could interrupt your childish bickering and request that the two of you redirect your attention to the fleeing villain?” 

Ah, right, Logan-  _ Logos  _ \- is absolutely correct! The villain had taken the brief moment of distraction to take off and was already about the quarters of the way down the block - 

Thankfully, they aren’t the only one with a physical boost, and a three-versus-one battle had cost them a much greater number of injuries, so Roman caught up with them after not too long. He villain tripped up a little as he closed in, and taking the opportunity in stride, he rushed forward with a hastily made red rope - 

Only to realize too late he’d been duped by arguably one of the most basic tricks in the book, and Tiger Beetle quickly turned on their heel after their faked stumble, and just a moment later he felt one of their knives get him in the arm; probably a ways off their target, but it was painful nonetheless. Roman couldn’t help being glad, though, that they hadn’t managed to get it  _ into  _ his arm, really - they just took a chunk off the side. Which is both better and worse - but he doesn’t have time to reflect on that, right now. Instead the next few minutes of his life are occupied with capturing the villain (for real), trying to keep as much of his  _ white costume  _ from getting stained with his own blood, and waiting for police officers who could arrest Tiger beetle in an official capacity and take them to the Supermax Prison for Boosted Criminals. 

Virgil’s fussing over him as usual, though Roman can’t really be bothered to fight it like he normally would. His arm fucking hurts, and if it isn’t Virge or Lo patching him up, it’ll be Patton, which would not be good. Because Patton has arguably way too much time on his hands, and will make a  _ huge  _ stink about him getting injured on-duty. Or off-duty. Or at all, no matter the circumstances. 

Eh, what can he do about that, though? He can’t exactly avoid his uncle’s boyfriend indefinitely, not when he spends almost as much time at their apartment as he does his own house - probably more. The place just reminds him of too many unpleasant memories these days, but he also doesn’t know enough about real-estate to get rid of it. Or rent it out. Technically, it was given to him in a semi-legal capacity, but seeing as he’s only just turned eighteen it’d be sort of a hassle to explain how he’s been a homeowner for several years already. 

Anny had always taken care of any bills or problems that needed to get repaired by a professional. And she’ll be released from prison in less than a month.

“-cy? Dammit, Roman, are you listening to a word I say?” 

“Ah- yes yes, I’m peachy keen, let’s get going now and leave our lovely compatriots in law enforcement to their duties!” 

“No, you’re going to sit your ass down on the pavement first so I can stitch you up, and let Lo guide you through those breathing exercises again because I’m pretty sure you were disassociating for at least six full minutes there.”

“Nonsense, home isn’t that far away, we can-” 

“Sit down.” 

“...Alright.” 

It had been a few months since he’d lost himself like that. He doesn’t actually agree with everyone that it’s dissociation, or anything like that - he just gets lost in thought sometimes. Yeah, his eyes will unfocus a bit and he tunes out most sounds that aren’t super loud or sudden, but that’s just what happens when one has a lot to think about - there’s no room to process much else.

Still, Roman sits as instructed, wincing more at how Virgil so carelessly cuts up his sleeve to get at the wound then any pain he’s feeling, and listens to his uncle counting off 4-7-8 intervals, following along easily enough. There’s a few times when he fails to make the full eight out because he suddenly becomes aware of the needle sliding through his skin again - but he’s fine by the next count of four. 

Funnily enough, he usually wouldn’t be so aware of an injury - he’s broken bones and has his flesh torn thoroughly hundreds of times, but he’s never been a huge fan of being stabbed or slashed. Ironic, considering his own choice of weapon, but something about it was just infinitely worse than being bludgeoned or even having his skin torn at by nails and teeth. Whatever the reason is, he’s relieved when Virgil finishes the final stitch and wraps his arm in gauze - both of which were a part of the “completely-mandatory-yes-roman-we-DO-need-one” first aid kit in Logan’s repertoire of supplies and gear. All of which are stored in the pockets of his lab coat that do  _ not  _ look big enough to fit any of the things that they do.

Everything packed away back into the first-aid kit that definitely shouldn’t fit anywhere in Logan’s coat, Virgil finally lets them start the trip back home. Patton’s probably already getting ready to give the Patton-Brand-Puppy-Eyes to ask them to stay for dinner, and despite the fact that he wouldn’t ever say no, being injured means there’s no argument to be had, period.

. . . . 

Maybe they shouldn’t be eating spaghetti on the couch, (and sitting on the coffee table, in Virge’s case) but who cares? It’s not like they’re going to make a mess! Probably! And if they do then they can just clean it up, so. Dinner time Disney-Marathon!

Of course, at first Logan had debated with him quite a few times about how he “shows his love” for them - but now it’s pretty common for them all to basically talk over the movie, granted the conversation was related to whatever they were watching. Anyone who tried to steer the conversation away from Disney was put on popcorn duty, and forfeit their movie votes for the night. 

“The fact that she is using a weapon completely unsuited for cutting hair and should therefore not make such a clean cut in any situation aside - there’s no way that sword would have gone through all of her hair in one swipe without more momentum!” 

“You don’t know how sharp the blade is! Her hair could be very thin and easy to cut.” 

“But it’s clearly not! She has quite a lot of hair, prior to cutting it in a way that  _ is not possible. _ ”

“Shhh, just listen to the music, Lo-lo.” 

“I cannot believe it. Betrayed by my own lover. How will I ever go on.” 

Personally, Roman thinks that that statement was a little too dry to even count as sarcasm, but Virgil seems to find it funny enough. The debate is dropped - for the moment - and they resume a semi-quiet viewing of Mulan. 

. . . 

Maybe it’s just because yesterday was a long day, or perhaps his body is just that fucked up, but he woke up horrendously late this morning. Which is sort of an issue, considering he still has to, you know, go to school. At least finals week is soon, as well as the end of the year itself - not that that in itself isn’t stressful, but it’s not like he has to worry about getting a job; he’s already registered as an official hero! (Even if he went about that in a less-than-legal way…) Technically it’s not a job he gets paid for, except for the occasional compensation from the government for catching a particularly high-risk bounty, but it’s a full-time one nonetheless. And it’s not like he and Virgil will ever want for cash, at this point. 

_ Besides  _ the fact that his uncle has loads of  stolen borrowed money that will all be circulated back into the city eventually anyways, he’s still got quite a bit left in his own savings. (Roman had battled with himself for weeks over whether to keep the money or not, but he’d always agreed to work for Anny in order to keep himself and Virgil afloat - it wouldn’t help to just throw it all away, and besides… a small part of himself was glad for every dollar that she didn’t have to just get whatever she wants.) 

Rushing through his morning routine and skipping a few steps altogether, Roman made it downstairs in time to hop in the car with Virgil. Usually Remy would just come and pick Virge up, but apparently he was going to the dentist this morning and couldn’t make it. From the look on his brother’s face, however, he could tell that many emojis and xo’s had been sent in apology. 

“Ready to go?”

“Yup! C’mon, let’s get going emo.” 

“Do you  _ want  _ me to dump you on the sidewalk and let you be late?”

“Aww, you wouldn’t do that to me and you know it. Not let’s be off, before we’re both actually late.”

“...Gonna kick your ass in the dojo today.”

“Ha! We’ll see about that!”

. . . 

Roman enjoys school. Really, he does! English, Spanish and social studies are usually pretty easy, or at least not too difficult; even science is tolerable, when they’re actually  _ doing  _ things, and not just taking note or listening to Mx. Maxwell give one of their patented “I’m going to talk all period and you’re just going to sit there and listen and not do anything else” lectures. It’s calculus that really kicks his ass, and he thinks that’s perfectly fair -  _ it’s hard! _

He’s not some math whiz like Uncle Lo or Virgil, and he can’t just learn from notes and lots of practice like Patton, (supposedly) he just… doesn’t get it. Well, he can memorize some of the formulas and he has a general idea of which order which numbers and symbols are supposed to go in, but… it doesn’t really work in practice. And it’s not like he isn’t  _ trying,  _ he’s been trying to understand math in general for most of his school career, honestly. But none of it feels like it can really be applied to his everyday life, like his other classes. 

It’s simple for Roman to understand linguistics of most kinds, because he’s met so many bi and even multilingual people in his life, with one or two that spoke as many as five! Language is important, (especially as a hero, you can’t expect every victim to just speak English, for godsakes-) and he feels engaged and excited to learn new words and phrases. Social studies is similar, in that he wants to know for for the sake of being a hero - besides the whole “repeating history” thing, he believes it’s essential to have at least a basic understanding of as many cultures as he can, and the history behind them; people  _ matter,  _ not just for who they are, but where they’re from, and what they believe in! How could he claim to be any sort of hero if he didn’t believe in that?

But numbers? Statistics and analysis and charts? There’s very few real-life applications that he can really connect with that, so it’s hard to stay focused. Even forcing himself to keep his eyes open and on his teacher, paying careful attention to each word and problem - he just can’t absorb any of it. He’s very thankful for his friends and family in this regard: no matter how stupid he feels, Roman’s never been left behind or given up on. The people around him are so understanding, (too much, in his opinion) so while it’s not and probably will never be a simple task for him, he’s floating just above failure for the moment. 

Which is great, because even if he doesn’t actually plan on pursuing a higher education, he does want to get through high school. It’s already pretty embarrassing that he never attended middle school, but dropping out just a few weeks away from getting his GED? That’d be a bit pathetic. 

So he  _ will  _ sit here and take notes like a good student, and do everything he can not to just let his vision blur and transform the plain white-grey-brown of the classroom into vivid reds and blues, leaping and diving under waves of sparkling green and deep pink - 

Dammit! What time was it? How long had he- oh. Okay. Only like ten minutes, which isn’t too bad but - yeah class is already almost over. Exactly three minutes until the bell rings, but Mr. Waller will probably go halfway into the passing period to discuss the homework, because “The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do.” Well Mr. Waller, what’s the point of the bell, hmm? Is it just a gentle reminder, a suggestion of when your students should be released to their already incredibly short lunch period? 

...Roman enjoys school, really. He does. Promise. 

. . . 

“Woah, who shit in your cheerios?”

“For your information, I had Fruit Loops for breakfast this morning.”

“...Well, you still haven’t answered my question - you look awful today. Why?”

Gasping in (mock) offense, Roman put a hand to his chest, before dramatically laying across Thomathy and Nate’s laps. Because who needs chairs when your friend and boyfriend are already sitting on a bench reasonably close together?

“How dare you insinuate that I’m anything less than perfect all the time!”

“Ro, just because your brother doesn’t have the same lunch period doesn’t mean we can’t get you to tell us what’s wrong.” 

...Damn you Thomas and your compassion for people. 

“Fine, fine! You guys got me, wonderful detective work! Look, I just woke up a bit late today and had to rush out the door, so I never really got to fully “wake up”.”

“And that’s all?”

“Aaaaaannnd calculus is killing me like usual, but I already have plans to work through some practice problems with Lo tonight, so it’s all good!”

And he’s been thinking about Anny way too much for his own good lately, and freaking a little bit over some scholarship applications he saw on Virge’s desk last night because he needed to borrow the sewing kit - but otherwise he’s fine. Frankly, his friends didn’t need to know that part, because Virgil’s probably going to be studying in-state anyways, and if he’s not- 

If he’s not- 

If he’s… 

Then they’ll ignore that bridge when they come to it, before tripping and falling into the rapid, piranha-invested river because  _ he doesn’t want to acknowledge the damn bridge-  _

“Ro? Roman? Earth-to-Roman, do you copy?”

“Yes, Thomathy, I copy.”

“Great! Then you’re fine with us crashing your place tonight to make sure you’re actually taking care of yourself for once?”

“Wh- when did i agree to that!? You know you’re welcome always, but-” 

“Then it’s settled!”

Nate offered no support either way, simply smirking down at Roman with a face that was frankly  _ way  _ too smug. He sighed. Truly, the burden of a relationship. 


	2. The difference between

There are many things to be said about the wonders of coffee on a school night - mainly that it’s probably not that wonderful at all because none of them get enough sleep as it is. Roman still loves doing this, though.

Remy and Virgil are usually on drink-pickup duty, Roman brings the snacks and Nate and Thomas set up the living room for whatever they’re doing that night - either a group study session or movies. Well, if you can consider a few seasons of The Office Bloopers “movies.” (They all have a remarkably similar sense of humor, okay?)

“You know babes, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: geography can go right ahead and fuck off.” 

“Awe, but I thought you wanted to go on a tour of Europe?”

“Duh, I’ll just use the GPS on my phone. Or hitchhike wherever.”

“...That sounds like a guide to “the quickest way to get murdered by a serial killer”.”

“Pssh, you’ll protect me though, right babe? My little hero?”

_ “Vigilante.” _

“Right, sure.” 

Okay, so maybe these study sessions have a little less actual  _ studying  _ than most, but what would you expect? It’s six teenagers all sitting in a room together, and there are two couples in the group. Frankly, Roman can’t remember the last time he actually  _ finished  _ any homework in one of these meetings - he’ll normally get about halfway through before dragging Nate to another room for some private time. Or, if Rem and Virge are being particularly obnoxious and couple-y in the living room, he won’t even move somewhere else. 

Just because he himself is absolutely smitten with his morally-grey, demiboy partner doesn’t mean he can’t also admit when other couples are being a little too much. 

The rest of the night settled into a well-established routine - not quiet by any means, but not as rowdy as you might expect. They eventually settled down between the couch and large mattress that they  _ finally  _ bought and dragged down to the basement, because sleeping on the floor was getting old. It may be fun like, once a week but after a while it was basically just guaranteed back problems. 

“Night, babes!” 

“G’night.”

“Sleepy time…” 

“Shut up and go to sleep already.” 

“Rude.” 

A sound not at all unlike that of a pillow making contact with someone quite hard - or as painfully as a pillow could hit, at least - echoed through the room, and then a grumbled assent. 

. . . 

Tuesday is a very important day, he knows. Tuesday is Uncle Lo’s guaranteed “off day” of each week, sort of like his weekend - and it’s a day he spends exclusively with Patton. Holidays and events are planned around it, and any fool who dares to interrupt them shall face the wrath of a mad scientist and his partner who can pull the most effective “I’m not mad just disappointed face” in the country. 

So he really,  _ really _ doesn’t want to have to call for backup unless he specifically has to. But damn, this villain is  _ a slippery fiend.  _ You’d think someone who can seemingly release explosions from their fingertips wouldn’t be so hard to keep an eye on, but you’d be dead wrong. The self-proclaimed “Meteorite” was elusive, and while her goal wasn’t specifically clear, she’d may well not even have one. Plenty of random boosted idiots just want to cause destruction with their powers, either to show them off or just test them out. 

Roman himself had, admittedly, been the same when he first figured out his boost and how to use it. The desire to show it off - to bask in the limelight he’d never had before was - extraordinary. But he’d also had much greater reasons to stay hidden back then, so he’d stuck to the training rooms. And missions, once River had allowed it. 

He isn’t too far down this train of thought when something catches his eye - just a flicker of movement to his right. Vivid red mixed with an almost purple color. The exact same hues as Meteorite’s costume. Not ten seconds later, there was a thunderous explosion from the same direction, and he pursued without a second thought. 

Admittedly, he’s a little upset at how long it took him to come up with the idea to use his power to fly; of course, he’d used it in similar ways many times before: creating steps for himself, or ways to launch himself in the air - but never like this. The idea had sort of come from Billow, and watching them move through the air - not tht Roman could replicate their powers at all, but it had made him think. He couldn’t make wind, so that wouldn’t work. He could make some pretty complex creatures, but they need a decent amount of focus to control for any length of time, so he couldn’t just make a dragon or something, because if he ever lost focus - well.  _ Splat.  _ You get the idea. 

But what about wings? Roman had played with making masks on the fly if his ever got ripped, and he was still in a public enough area to need to cover his face; he’d even made actual clothes before - though they never really felt good to wear, and honestly it was practical at all, but it had been fun to play around with making princely outfits and capes out of the shiny red material. That was all far less complex than an actual extension to his body, but it was a start - and he’d only evolved the plans from there. 

Within a few weeks, he could conjure up a practical set of wings, ones that followed all the right sizes and anatomy to actually lift him, according to Lo, at least. And they  _ worked.  _ Really well, actually. Probably nowhere near as smoothly as a bird’s, because technically Roman couldn’t  _ feel  _ them, but that’s nothing some practice didn’t fix easily enough. 

As he rounds the corner of a frustratingly tall building, he sports her - Meteorite. Causing more havoc, of course. He bites down on his tongue to avoid shouting something- victorious, maybe? Apparently the Red Knight has a tendency to monologue a bit. This would be much easier if he snuck up on her though - getting in close had been the hardest part of this fight so far, so the fact that she was turned away and distracted for once was not a chance Roman would pass up. 

He does manage to get close, at least. That might be the only consolation he gets from this attempt, considering that the villain turned just in time to dodge and fo Roman to get a face full of asphalt. Definitely not his proudest moment. Before he can get very far there are several explosions set off almost right in his face, and he barely pulls his shield up in time to cover himself. 

  
Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, or maybe somewhere deep in his mind there’s just some panic button that’s been pressed, but the second the blasts cease Roman rises to his feet, and rushes Meteorite - bashing her in the face with his shield. 

“Ooh, that’s gonna leave a bruise!”

Meteorite doesn’t have a response to that other than to shove both her hands at him, nearly brushing against his chest, and firing almost a dozen more blasts at once. The fact that his shield is still raised doesn’t really make him any better. 

Shaking his head as he rises once more, Roman takes just a brief moment to think of a strategy for once, since his usual “rush in and rely on superior reflexes” plan hasn’t worked so far, and likely won’t. 

_ Wait, what am I even doing? I’m acting like a total rookie right now, dammit! I have her attention, and this street is evacuated already, use that! _

This whole time Roman’s been trying to get in close, either subconsciously worried about civilians or property damage, when they’re on a street full of bars and casinos on a tuesday morning! He prepares to hit Meteorite with something a little bigger than he has been. What had he been thinking about earlier? Animals? Dragons, specifically. Yeah, he can totally work with that. 

With the image of scales and claws and large wings in his mind, Roman reflexively stretches his fingers in a facsimile of molding clay or play-doh; something so complex needs at least a little bit more than just his imagination, after all. 

The Red Knight may not be a fairytale prince, but today would be a day for swords and dragons and wicked villains being put in their rightful place. 

. . . 

“You know, I think this is like, the fifth time you’ve cause school to get cancelled because of a hero fight this semester, babe. Think you could’ve done that when I was dying over midterms?” 

“No, because I was also stuck dying over midterms and had to ignore everyone online asking where the Knight was.” 

It might be a little weird how well Roman and Remy get along, to some people - sure they;re both dramatic and like to complain about their lives, but besides that they actually don’t have a whole lot in common. But they do have Virgil in common, which is enough to make it easy to say that after Virge, Remy is probably his best friend. His boyfriend doesn’t count, and Thomathy is a wonderful human being but is more like a mother, almost. 

...Despite the boy having almost zero life skills besides cooking and balancing an unbelievable amount of clean laundry on the same chair without folding or putting any of it away.

“Fair enough. So, where did you wanna go again?” 

“The dojo. Classes are out and everyone else is busy so I want to get a little workout done before going back to patrolling.” 

“Sure thing. I might just sit around and watch, since Vee’s putting his grade over cuddle time.” 

Roman gasps in mock horror. “If Nate ever did that to me I’d dump their ass. Then again, they already have a pretty good job and don’t have to worry about failing.” 

“Hey, don’t make my boyfriend sound like some kind of free-loader, he works too!” 

“As a vigilante, which isn’t a paying job. Unfortunately, considering how much they do for cities where there just aren’t enough heroes.” 

“Really? I thought they said something like, sixty percent of younger folks want to be heroes?” 

“Yeah,  _ want to be. _ Most of them can’t or won’t get boosted, and without powers or a crazy uncle who makes insane tech for you, there isn’t much an average person can do against supervillains. Vigilantes usually are trained in martial arts or are boosted, though, so they help quite a lot when you can’t always end a fight the legal way.” 

Remy chuckles, but Roman can tell he’s a little uncomfortable with that train of thought. 

“Yeah, I mean - I get it’s unavoidable sometimes, y’know? But like, I don’t think it’s cool to run into every fight prepared to like. Kill whatever villain is causing trouble. Seems like something that might uh…” 

“Make someone who’s supposed to be protecting people get too used to maiming and killing instead of resolving things peacefully?”

“Mhmm.”

It’s a fair point, and one Roman totally agrees with. Even the most dangerous of villains  _ can  _ be taken down without having to use excessive force. And he should know, considering he has such a versatile power that could easily be used to end all of his fights quickly and messily, but he has a 96% capture rate. Not “take-downs”, actually bringing the villains he fights into jail, or otherwise incapacitating them for the police to pick up and detain. 

He doesn’t get to say any of this out loud, however, because they’ve arrived. Remy might already know some of those things anyways, because his career comes up fairly often in their friend group. 

Sometimes it surprises him how much smaller Sensei Ta’s dojo looks compared to when he first started attending - then again, most places usually feel smaller as you get more familiar with them. He takes a moment to slow down by the trophy case and large display of plaques on the wall beside it; they’re proudly displayed near the front, and he searches for Logan Tebeau as he always does. Roman’s proud of his own achievements, sure, but he’s almost memorized every single trophy here under his uncle’s name - he’s very impressive at the martial art, and frankly Sensei has been getting less and less subtle about mentioning him taking over the place. 

By “less subtle” he means Sensei Ta has gone from asking directly to demanding, and Lo keeps refusing because taking over the dojo would mean that Sensei is really retiring, and… no one but the man himself is really prepared for that to happen. He’s like a very strict father figure to them all, and it isn’t easy to see him slowing down. Not that Roman wouldn’t still get his ass handed to him, but it’s not as one-sided as it once was. 

“So, what’s up today babe? Working by yourself, kicking some newbie ass, driving Mrs. Johnson mad?” 

“ _ Sensei Johnson,  _ Rem. There’s no Mr. or Miss or Mrs. in the dojo, just Sensei or rank.”

“Right, right. Still didn’t answer my question.” 

“I’m not sure, maybe I’ll warm up a bit and see if there’s any need for a teaching assistant today - it could be slow enough that I could just pull someone aside for a spar.”

...It most certainly is  _ not  _ a slow day, as they both come to realize upon entering the gym - Roman in his dobok, and Remy (regretfully) missing the chai latte he’d brought inside, as only water is allowed within the gym itself. The place is packed with easily two dozen more kids than usual, along with… their parents. Oh no. 

“Ah, Kingsley! Good to see you! We have some transfers from another dojo that recently cut it’s class sizes a bit. Care to assist?” Sensei Johnson calls. 

Roman sighs internally. Dealing with one or two new kids at a time, or even the dozen or so they might get at the start of the summer is usually fine but  _ this?  _ This is going to take all day, and he has no doubt that if he hadn’t come in, someone would have called him in. Not that he isn’t happy to teach, but he’s working on getting his second dan right now and there’s going to be no time for at least a week now -until all the new students are settled into a routine. At least their gym is large, and can accommodate everyone easily; it’s the parents he’s worried about getting in the way. 

“Hey Remy, you should probably just head home now. It’s going to be a  _ long  _ afternoon.” 

“...yeah, alright. Call me when you need a ride home, ‘kay?”

“Wonderful.”

  
  
  
  



	3. When stranger danger doesn't apply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA ANYONE WHO WAS WONDERING HOW TWO SIX YEAR OLDS SURVIVED SO LONG IS ABOUT TO SEE WHAT I'VE BEEN SITTING ON FOR LITERAL M O N T H S

If someone has asked Virgil what his plans for the future were in his freshman year, his answer would have been vague and probably suspicious, because you can’t just say “I’m going to live with my brother who’s also the city’s top hero and probably never have a real job because I don’t even have a birth certificate” out loud. 

Not that he could give a straight (haha) answer  _ now,  _ but at least it doesn’t involve free-loading his whole life and maybe dying in some freak accident related to Roman’s heroics. Most of it involves illegal activities, like forging identification and degrees after Logan thinks he’s ready to start working on his own somewhere. Maybe he’d just be a regular mechanic, or even open his own shop, whatever. All Virgil knows is that he likes making shit that blows up when it’s supposed to and not blow up when it isn’t, and anything other than constant vigilante work would be a dream. 

Of course he likes helping people! And it’s nice to be a part of what Roman does now, because it feels like they’ve become a lot closer because of it, but he’s also almost died a number of times this year that is more than zero, so he would very much like to stop soon please. His heart can’t take watching the only person he had for most of his life get hit with a fireball the size of a small car, or get thrown two blocks away by a villain. 

All of these thoughts are interrupted by his ( cute obnoxious) boyfriend lightly tapping the side of his head to get his attention. 

“I can see the steam coming out of your ears, babe. What’re you thinking so hard about that you can’t enjoy cuddle time?” 

“...Stuff, I guess. Adult things.” 

“Ooooh, you could’ve just said so, Ve-” 

“Oh shut up, I meant like responsibilities! All the bullshit we’ll have to deal with as adults! And it should be illegal for someone so painfully asexual to make those jokes, anyway.”

“Yeah yeah, I was just messing with you Vee. C’mon, what  _ adult responsibilities  _ are you worrying so much about? You’ve already been eighteen for a while, babe.” 

“But that doesn’t make me an adult, that just makes me an older child! I have zero life skills outside of surviving school, Remy.” 

“No life skills? Well, if  _ you  _ have no life skills, then Roman must already be dead, because if I recall correctly, that idiot didn’t even know how to cook until he was like, 16.” 

That gets a small chuckle out of him. It’s true enough - at least he isn’t the only one who isn’t very mature in this house.

“Seriously babe, you’ll be fine. It’s not like everyone’s just gonna like, abandon you to learn it by yourself. You already have a place to live and all of the essential chores down, now we just got to get you to tie a tie and give a proper interview handshake.” 

“Pfft, yeah right. The day I wear a tie is the day I’m being put into a casket, and it will only go on over my best mcr shirt.”

“Okay, serious talk is over, so that means back to cuddle time, babe. No arguments unless they’re about who’s hogging the blanket.” 

. . . 

“You know Patton, I think you’re the only one in the apartment who ever has been or will go to college. Good for you.”

“Aw, that’s nice of you to say kiddo, but I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration - I took an online course in business, and it was only two years.” 

Finals week is just around the corner, barely eight days away, so they’re having dinner at Pat and Logan’s so they can spend a few hours studying with two parental figures to pressure them into actually working. It had been Roman’s idea to start, and they’d been doing it for a while. Virgil’s only about halfway through most of his homework, but there’s still some time before dinner to get a bit more done. 

Logan is diligently holding up flashcards for them to practice with (and totally not compete at all for points in the completely abstract game of who can guess more correctly) and quizzing them with practice sheets. Patton brings over snacks and helps look through any essay work - he’s kind with making corrections and comments, but no grammatical error escapes his red pen. When something gets finished, they get a sticker, which is honestly more motivating than the terror of failing his exams. 

“Yeah, but at least you did it. It’s still pretty cool.” 

“Can someone  _ please  _ tell me how to spell wednesday day without constantly saying “wed-nes-day” under my breath?” Roman interrupts. 

“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable. The english language is extensive and impressive in its sheer absurdity, but there are no shortcuts.”

“Preach, Logan. I vote we all learn whatever they speak in the sims instead. It’d be so much easier.” 

“Oh, you mean simlish? I would gladly teach you.” 

“Wait, you know simlish?!”

It isn’t very long before he and Roman are asking Lo to say different things in simlish instead of working, while Patton calls break time and goes to order pizza because tonight just feels like a pizza night. 

“I didn’t think it was an actual language, I just figured they recycled a bunch of random sounds.”

“Well, it’s not a complete dictionary, but some rudimentary conversation can be held. Of course some words don’t have any direct translation, but substitutions can be made.”

Virgil gives himself a moment to breathe, the others picking up the slack easily - if there’s anyone he could trust to never be quiet it’s these two. That’s probably a good thing too, because complete silence is a nightmare. He definitely prefers some sort of background noise; it makes it easier to breathe, somehow. 

Logically, it’s probably just a residual thing from when he and Roman were on the streets. Granted, they weren’t alone for all that long, but being six and not knowing where you are or who you can trust to help you is a pretty terrifying experience. Virgil almost feels bad for not thinking about the ones who helped them, all those years ago - he’s been suppressing those memories as much as possible. Obviously he’s up to date on the Ovannis and their lives, but they weren’t the only ones who stopped him and Ro from getting run over or starving in some back alley. 

It can’t hurt to reminisce a little, right? Face your fears, and all that. If only it were that easy. 

. . . 

_ Queens, Newyork, ~12 years ago _

They’re lost. He knows they are, even if Ro won’t say so. They knew some of the street names and one or two buildings looked familiar, but that was forever ago. Maybe they wouldn’t be lost if he hadn’t accidentally dropped the stupid map from the hotel, but! How was he supposed to know it was gonna land right in a puddle!?

Ro isn’t mad at him, at least. He never is. Even when he really messes up or accidentally knocked him off the playground equipment at school, Ro’s never been mad at Virgil. Which he’s really glad for, because he doesn’t think he could handle anyone yelling at him right now. He’d just sit down and cry. But as long as he can kinda pretend it’s okay and that his mom and dad aren’t- then he’ll be fine. 

“We’ve been walking for  _ forever  _ Vee, let’s go sit please?” 

A part of him thinks they really shouldn’t be sitting at one of this restaurant’s tables if they can’t buy anything, but his feet are also really tired and it’s only a few minutes, so… it can’t be too bad, right? 

He really wants to go home now. At least Logan would be there, and he’s super nice and would know what to do for sure! He’s kind of an adult at least, so he’s gotta know how to fix everything, right? Or fix most things, because there are some things that can’t ever be fixed - (mom and dad and auntie mel and uncle quinn won’t ever come back he knows that but why did they have to go at all?) whatever happens, it’d be better if they were home. But they can;t get home, because the car ride was so long and he could never walk that far! It’d take like ten years, even more if his feet don’t stop hurting so much. 

A nice lady who definitely looks like a waitress asks if their parents are nearby, or if they’re with an older sibling, and neither of them have an answer to that. After a few seconds he just grabs Ro’s hand and runs, because what else are they supposed to do!? What can they do? They’re going to get in trouble for being out alone, because that’s what always happens when he walks away from momma in the store- 

Virgil can’t help it. He just starts crying as they run and he can’t breathe because he isn’t good at running and crying just makes it harder, and oh no he’s going to choke on his own spit isn’t he?!    
  
_ Sorry Ro, I think this is where I die, too _

“C’mon, Vee, slow down! No one’s even chasing us!” 

“Wh.. what! No one… no one’s even..” 

“Yeah so just, stop already! I’m never ever running again after this, it sucks!” 

He slows down before finally stopping, never letting go of Ro’s hand. His legs are so shaky that he just sits down right there on the sidewalk. His heart’s beating so hard it’s going to explode, he thinks. That is if he doesn’t just stop breathing right there, because it’s really hard right now and he can’t really speak. 

Even if he can’t say it, he agrees with Ro about running. He never wants to do it again, please and thanks. 

. . . 

“Your face is split in half.” 

Maybe not the best thing to say to a stranger he knows nothing about, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. Roman’s still asleep, (sleeping under a tree wasn’t his first choice, but it had been raining a little last night and it was the only dry spot they could find) and this guy is just staring right at them. Maybe he should be afraid because they aren’t supposed to talk to strangers, but he isn’t. Or not as much as he should be. 

The man has a long, uneven line splitting his face - not in half, actually, but it still runs down his whole face, over his right eye and right down his chin. It’s kinda funny that he’s wearing glasses when it looks like he only has one eye, but maybe he wears them  _ because  _ he can’t open his other eye. 

Even with the huge scar though, he doesn’t look scary. Virgil thinks he looks like a teacher, almost. The guy dresses just like one - one of those buttoned shirts with a tie but no jacket, and grey pants and shoes that are really boring. 

“Well I suppose it is, little one. It’s a pretty big scar, isn’t it?” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“Not anymore, no. Why are you and your friend sleeping outside?” 

“...Cause we don’t have anywhere else to? Do you think we’d do this on purpose or something? I thought people with glasses were supposed to be smart.” 

That was definitely not the right thing to say, because adults are never happy when you’re mean to them- but the man only laughs. He doesn’t look mad at all. 

“Well that just isn’t true. There are plenty of people who wear glasses that aren’t smart. And I apologize, I’m sure you wouldn’t sleep outside unless you had to, that was a little stupid of me wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, but that’s okay. Adults are stupid sometimes.” 

“But not kids?” 

“Oh, Ro’s dumb all the time.” 

“Is that your friend’s name? Ro?” 

Virgil shakes his head, only realizing a minute later that he probably woke Ro up, because he was sleeping on Virgil’s shoulder.   
  
“His name’s roman, but I call him Ro ‘cause we’re friends. And my name’s Virgil, but he calls me Vee.” 

“I see. Well Virgil, my name is Tsukachi. It’s nice to meet you.” 

He doesn’t say what he’s thinking out loud this time, but that sounds like a really weird name. I actually doesn’t even sound like a name, but that’s probably not his business. Plus, he already kinda insulted (Tsu- Tsu- however you say that name, he’s just gonna say Tsu because that’s easier…) Tsu’s face, so insulting his name too would be really rude. 

“Vee? Who’re you talkin to?” Ro wakes up slowly, rubbing his eyes and not at all noticing his hair being a huge mess. 

“Oh, did we wake you? I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. Usually I’m up first, though…” 

Virgil shifts a little where he’s sitting - his legs are both asleep, but mostly he’s just looking for something to do. He’s never really talked to strangers before and even if Tsu did introduce himself he’s still just a stranger. Someone he’s never seen before and knows nothing about at all. Is it really a good idea to keep talking to him? Ro doesn’t seem worried. 

In fact, Ro keeps talking with Tsu like it’s no problem at all - maybe he’s just tired though. But Tsu doesn’t seem like a bad person, even with that big scar. It actually seems to suit him just right, somehow. 

“I know this isn’t really my business, but can I assume you two don’t have anyone watching over you right now?”

Neither of them answer that - well, Ro might have nodded but Virgil can’t really tell because his eyes are getting all blurry. He shouldn’t be crying so much because it hasn’t helped at all so far, but he can’t really stop it, either. 

“That’s very unfortunate. I can’t solve all of your problems, but I could make it so you don’t have to sleep under any more trees, if you’d like.” 

. . . 

In hindsight, Virgil thinks that maybe, despite all of the kindness Tsukachi offered them, they should have refused. Sure, he turned out to be a decent man in the end, but how were they supposed to be sure of that? They were pretty stupid kids. 

Besides, if they hadn’t been around, then maybe… no. He’s been over this at least a thousand times with Roman. Blaming themselves for things that are already done and can’t be apologized for won’t do anything - not anything helpful, anyway. Guilt only makes it harder to forget that part of their lives, and while Virgil may not be as good at forgetting as his brother, he can at least pretend to to spare them anymore pain over it. 


	4. Fire isn't supposed to make you feel cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Am posting this chapter from mobile as I'm having some laptop issues rn. Punch me in the faces if there's any format issues. Love yall ;P
> 
> ●○●○●○●○●○●○● - this line signifies where the ah,,, graphic content of this chapter is. It's gore. And it's sorta essential to the story? But if anyone wants to know what happened without having to read it word for word, let me know in the comments and I'll put a summary at the end notes

“Virge, hands.” 

“Right, yeah. Sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for kiddo, just be careful.” 

Virgil has a habit of biting his nails which, normally, wouldn’t be a big deal. It’s a common nervous habit. But he also tends not to stop at just the nails, and can ruin a lot of the skin on his fingers if he isn’t careful, so his family has always been pretty good at reminding him. That doesn’t mean that just a verbal reminder always works, but usually it does and he’s grateful for the help. 

So  _ maybe  _ he was stressing a little more than usual over this specific sketch, but only because it would (maybe, hopefully) be the outline for his last drawing. Not his last one  _ ever,  _ but the last one of its kind. After this one, he’d stick to landscapes or whatever, but he was never drawing another portrait or even another person if he could get away with it. He’d convinced himself a long time ago that this was for Roman, but after a lot of self-reflection and some uncomfortable conversations, Virgil realized that this wasn’t what his brother needed. 

Of course, that was mainly because Ro wasn’t as hung up about their past. Virgil still needed to do this for himself, and it’d be for himself only. A simple portrait of Roman and his families, standing together in front of (what he’s pretty sure) was once the Devon’s house. For some reason he could always remember their home much more clearly than his own. 

He didn’t use any of the pictures Logan had offered for reference, only his own memory - and it would be okay if it wasn’t exactly correct, because this was about how he remembered them, and nothing else. Call it the world’s weirdest and most late mourning process, but this is how he wants to do it. 

Virgil picks up his pencil once more, trying to remember if his mother’s hair was just past or just above her shoulders. 

. . . 

Tsu’s house feels kinda small, even with two stories. But that’s probably just ‘cause there’s so much  _ stuff  _ crowing the space. There’s gotta be at least like, eight of those little tables that you put in the corner to put flowers and phone books on, and they’re all slightly bending under the weight of stacks and stacks of books and loose paper. 

Thankfully, there’s still enough room to move around, and it looks like they have a little backyard, too. He says “they”, because Tsu also has a brother who lives with him, which is cool! They’re not actually brothers, like they both have the same parents, but like Tsu’s momma and Hanato’s dad got married, so they’re step-brothers. Virgil’s happy to know that people can still be brothers, even without having the same parents,  or any parents at all, maybe? because then he and Ro could be brothers, if they wanted. (Tsu says that’s not really how it works but that if they both wanna be brothers then no one can tell them they aren’t.) 

Hanato is much louder than his brother, but that’s not actually saying much because Tsu is really quiet, even when he’s the only one talking. But still, he’s louder by comparison, and Virgil likes the way he seems to hum whatever song is on his mind. Their first day sharing a home with the brothers feels a little too quiet, and he’s not used to so much silence between this many people, so the soft humming and occasional creak from one of the tables that’s in real danger of just breaking in two is comforting. Sorta. He  _ really  _ doesn’t wanna get crushed by a table. 

Ro’s weirdly quiet too. As soon as they got inside, he just found the nearest place to sit (the sofa Tsu was now reading on) and fell asleep. He doesn’t really blame Ro for that, he’d probably go back to sleep too if he didn’t feel so weird, but he wants someone to talk to. Maybe Virgil should ask Tsu or Hanato if they have any board games they could all play, or at least a book to read. But momma always says to be respectful in someone else’s home, and that means when it’s quiet-time, you’re quiet. 

. . . 

Virgil chuckles to himself. It was  _ always  _ quiet-time at Tsukachi's place, even each meal was eaten in almost complete silence. It’d taken a lot of getting used to, but he and Roman had started spending a lot of their time in the backyard, or shut away in the room they were given, in order to talk without feeling like they were setting off a bomb in the middle of a forest. 

He doesn’t really blame Hanato or Tsukachi for not engaging them more often - the two had never had kids of their own, and treated the boys largely like young teenagers. If they wanted to go outside, they could go for as long as they wanted and wherever they wanted, but if they weren’t back in time for lunch or dinner they had to reheat what’d been made on their own. If they wanted to use something, or read a book, it was fine as long as they put it back in the same condition later. There weren’t a whole lot of rules or boundaries, and having that much freedom, while fun at first, hadn’t provided the most stable environment for them in retrospect. 

They hadn’t been made to go to school at all, which was probably a good thing, in the end. If they’d ever been discovered as the two kids everyone thought was dead, that could have been trouble. Virgil has no idea what would have happened if someone had taken them into foster care or something. Roman may have never been a hero, even. Sometimes he wonders how things would’ve gone if Roman had blamed the heroes, rather than the villains, for what had happened. He himself had had those thoughts plenty of time before, wondering why everyone else had been saved but their family wasn’t. He tries to imagine Roman as some sort of super villain - but it just doesn’t look right. Virgil’s brother wouldn’t do that, ever, he’s just not like that. He doesn’t like to hurt people. 

_ But some people sure do, _ he thinks, as his mind wanders once more. 

. . .

It's really weird being at home all the time now. As much as Virgil didn't really like the other kids at school besides Ro, he was used to having somewhere to go during the daytime now, so it was just like a never-ending weekend. We knew weekends could get so boring, stuck either in his room or in the backyard? Those were usually his two favorite places to be.

"Hey Vee? D'you think we could go for a walk? Like when the old neighbor lady took her dogs up and down the street."

"If you wanna. But we should ask Tsu first, right?"

"But he's not our dad. He can't tell us what to do anyways, when we aren't in his house."

"Oh, right."

"Then let's go!"

...so they did. They walked and walked (but only in a straight line so they could find their way back easy) and before he knew it, Virgil felt a lot better somehow. His legs hurt and his lungs felt kinda tight, but in a good way - it felt nice to breathe the air outside and stare at the sky. If he looked long enough in the right way, he could see the way the sky curved at the edges. It felt like sitting inside a huge marble, which was maybe a little scary when he imagined himself stuck inside a marble, before he remembered that there wasn't actually anything trapping them on Earth. If you could reach far enough, you'd just end up in space, totally free. 

Ro liked the marble idea, because marbles are pretty and he really likes pretty things. Not that Virgil didn't already know that, but his friend says a lot of things that he's already said before. Maybe he thinks that people will forget if he doesn't say anything. Virgil does weird stuff too sometimes, though, like rubbing the ends of his longer sleeves together because it feels nice, or chewing the end of pencils, so he doesn't say anything about Ro's own habits.

"Woah, is that Hanato?”

“What? Where?”

“Look! He’s sitting with a buncha people in suits! Maybe they’re his friends?”

“Yeah… looks like they’re having lunch. I didn’t even see him leave the house earlier.”

“Adults just do that sometimes. They go to the store or something and you don’t even know they’re gone ‘til they’re back. Let’s go say hi!”

It’s not like Virgil didn’t like Hanato or anything and didn’t want to talk to him, but there was a very bad feeling that sat in his chest when he saw the people Hanato was hanging out with. So he dragged his feet, letting Ro go ahead of him to greet Tsu’s brother and his friends who were sitting outside some nice restaurant, and tried to look like he wasn’t actually there. Maybe if no one saw him, he could just wait for Ro to come back over and they’d go back home quietly? 

“Hey! Hey, Hanato! What’re you doing? Who’re these people, huh?” 

Virgil might be becoming a psychic, because even though Ro didn’t really seem to notice it, the look Hanato gave after hearing Ro’s greeting was kinda scary. It wasn’t there for very long, but it made him feel much more confident in his choice to stay behind. There was only a small crowd of people and some bushes surrounding the outside eating area for the restaurant to stop anyone from noticing him, but he was also pretty small and hid easily. It was a little hard to hear what was said next, but he’s pretty sure it was Hanato asking Ro why he was there, and not back at home. Because that seemed like the most adult-like response to the situation. At least Ro was loud enough for Virgil to hear all of his side of the conversation...

“Me an’ Vee were going on a walk! Though I don’t see him now… anyway, what’re  _ you _ doing? Oh, I guess it is about lunchtime. I guess it’s about time to start heading home, but I need to find Vee again first. Who are these people? Oh, but are you guys friends? Oh. Okay, I’ll go back! See ya’ back home, Hanato!”

. . . 

And that had been that. Honestly, he’s not sure what he had been expecting at the time - it’s not like Hanato or Tsukachi would have ever acted too oddly in public. And the two brothers had always been at least civil with Virgil and Roman - no matter how annoying they probably were sometimes. 

Maybe it was that “scary” look that had set off all his alarm bells. Virgil had never seen someone look at another person, or really anything that way before. It was emotion no child typically encountered, and so he’d had no word for it until years later: absolute terror. Sure, it had been hidden under some paper-thin veils of impassiveness and irritation, but Virgil could recognize that amount of fear now, and knew why Hanato would feel that way. 

After all, who in their right mind would ever want to reveal a child, let alone two, to a group of ruthless hero-killers and vigilantes that bordered on villainy? 

Some days Virgil still regrets ever having agreed to stay with Tsukachi and his brother in the first place. They were both just too kind for their own good, and had taken a stupid risk for the sake of two children just because their hearts were too good to ignore people in need. Maybe it's taken a little too long to realize that Virgil doesn’t feel guilty because those men helped him and Roman, but rather that they had done so with no possible hope for reward or anything in return. 

No use dwelling on the past though, right? But maybe just in small amounts… Virgil stared down at the mess of pipes and containers of hydraulic fluid in front of him, and let his hands work from memory as his vision went out of focus and he let himself linger on thoughts of the past for, hopefully, the last time. 

. . .

It’s snowing. That’s pretty much Virgil’s first thought when he wakes up - besides the overwhelming need to brush his teeth, his mouth tastes really bad - it’s snowing outside, and he can see it through the window. There’s a thin lay of it lining the streets and roofs outside. The road must already be salted, though, because there’s no ice there at all. 

Getting out of bed slowly so he won’t wake Ro up with the creaking of the mattress, Virgil steps quietly out of their room and into the bathroom across the hall. Brushing his teeth hard and using extra toothpaste, he finally feels better with the nasty morning-breath gone, and now he realizes he’s hungry. It’s too early for Hanato or Tsu to be making breakfast, but ,maybe he can grab a quick snack before going back to bed for a little bit. 

Trodding down the stairs, Virgil smells something. For some reason, it smells familiar, even though it’s thick and kinda gross. It reminds him of something, he’s sure of if, but he just can’t remember what right away. Maybe someone  _ was  _ already making breakfast despite how early it was, and had burnt it? That was the closest thing he could compare it to, kinda like when something got burned on the stove but different. 

He’s rubbing the last bit of sleep out of his eyes, accidentally pushing hard enough to see black spots when he finally opens them again. He really wishes he hadn’t. There’s a scream caught in the back of his throat - he can’t quite. He just  _ can’t. _ For a long moment, Virgil stops doing just about everything but breathing in short, panicked breaths. 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

There’s a man on the floor. And two ladies. They’re all dressed in the same all-dark clothes and they’re all  _ burnt.  _ Burnt so bad they might have lived on the sun, for all he could tell. And there was blood, too, of course there was. Lots and lots of blood. It was everywhere, just like the many scorch marks over the walls and other random places. Did someone set the house on fire and it just never reached the second floor? 

That’s all Virgil can think of to explain this. And then - and then he sees Tsu and Hanato. Tsu is lying on the floor by the stairs, face down but still easily recognizable. He looks like he fell down facing away from the stairs though, kinda like he was coming down from them, or maybe just standing in front of them for a long time. He’s got blood everywhere too, and his hands - oh. His hands look red and have some dark smudges on them. Like he’d been playing with fire. 

(Virgil knows, he knows some people have powers and use them for good, but he also knows that some of those people use them for bad things, like hurting people. He doesn’t know id Tsu did this to protect him and Ro or if it just happened. But maybe he doesn’t want to know that for sure because he really did like Tsu and doesn’t want to think of him like a murderer or villain like the ones who had ruined his and Ro’s lives.) 

Hanto is slumped against the wall, face down almost like he’d fallen asleep there. His dark brown hair covers his eyes, leaving just the bottom half of his face visible. There’s some blood on him too, but no signs of burning. Just a lot of tears and little holes, like something had torn through the fabric from the inside out. Blades of spikes, he couldn’t tell, because he’s never seen anything like this before, but Virgil figures that it doesn’t matter much anyways. He’s still dead, just like Tsu. Just like the strangers on the floor. 

●○●○●○●○●○●○●

For now, Virgil decides to go back upstairs. Because it is still very early, and he is very tired. Maybe when he goes back into bed, and wakes up again, the smell will be gone and Tsu will be making breakfast while Hanato sets the table and all will be well again. Or, if not, he can try and make sure Ro doesn’t have to see and they can leave the house through a window or something. 

He’ll always be there to protect Ro, after all. Because they’re really all they’ve got, in the end. Just Virgil and Roman against the world, forever. 


	5. Pie is a great conversation topic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahahah.... hahaha.... so... here it is I don't actually have anything to say lmao. Love yall!

Roman’s always been generally pretty thankful for his life. 

Sure, there were quite a few rough patches, (and repressed trauma) but as far as lives go, he’s doing pretty well for himself now. He has friends, family, a house and his “dream job.” If you can call something that technically doesn’t pay you, legally, a job. There’s the occasional under-the-table thanks from the government for taking down particularly high-profile supervillains, but that isn’t why he does it. Not anymore, anyway. 

The point it, that he’s grateful for his current lifestyle, and is choosing not to regret  _ most  _ of the decisions that got him here. But at this particular moment? Sitting right here, at this moment, he could easily regret every single word he’s said and step he’s taken to be sitting in a small, stuff room getting a physical. 

Oh, he doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of, really. Roman had spent more than enough years thinking poorly about his appearance that the thoughts don’t affect him so much anymore. Plus, he’s had more than enough conversations with Virgil and Thomas to be… not cured, exactly, just better about ignoring certain thoughts and being happy regardless of his appearance everywhere except in-costume. 

What he hates about physicals is that it is so blaringly,  _ painfully  _ obvious that he’s boosted. Even without the slightly unnatural physical abilities for someone who hasn’t had any serious training regimen for years, there’s the exceptionally slow heartbeat that not one single doctor has ever failed to point out to him. 

And hadn’t  _ that  _ been an exciting revelation, that all boosts are just  _ like that _ . At first it had been a coincidence, maybe he and Patton just reacted the same way to the surgery. But then he’d talked to Billow and Amavit about it in passing, they’d said they were the exact same way. That’s when Roman had spent a full week semi-interrogating fellow heroes (and a few boosted villains) about their heart rate. Now he was unfortunately privy to that terrifying piece of information. 

Could anyone discover him with just a stethoscope? Had all these years of hiding and painstakingly shoving things under the metaphorical carpet been for nothing? 

So yeah. Roman very much does  _ not _ care for the looks that the examiner is giving him. Maybe it was a risky choice, but it had been his decision to make, and no one could make him regret it now. Not with how many lives he’s affected for the better, not when he saved his brother and can fight beside him and his uncle to make New York a better place. 

Shaking his head, hoping that one day it’ll really work like some kind of magical etch-a-sketch and clear his thoughts, Roman focuses on the words he’s just realized are being spoken to him. 

‘-reat shape, Mr. Kingsley! I’m giving you a clean bill of health, but a little word of advice: it won’t be this easy forever, haha. Enjoy your youth while it lasts, you can get going now.”

“Right, yes - good afternoon.” Jeez, what are you supposed to say to the person who just measured your cholesterol and patted you down like the TSA?

Maybe going for a walk will help. If nothing else, he could go look for a good fight to step into and save someone, or just fight. Sometimes that’s the best way to relieve any tension, really - punching a villain in the face can be very therapeutic, in his experience. 

. . . 

Of course, the only fight he comes upon after two hours of looking is one that’s almost over. Not that he isn’t happy for Billow, (who he now knows is named Baraby, which is a pretty cute name, actually, _ shush brain you have a boyfriend! _ ) 

who seems to be having fun. Then again everything is a thousand times more exciting when you can fly around like superman. 

The other hero takes notice of him eventually, and waves before tapping his mask gently: a sort of covert sign they invented for “I can’t come talk to you because I’m in costume right now but I totally would if I could”. Taking the chance that Baraby probably has their phone on-hand somewhere, Roman sends them a text asking if they want to get lunch and hang out. It is a nice day, and as far as he can tell there isn’t a whole lot of villainous activity going on today - they’re safe for thirty minutes to eat, surely. 

Maybe ten minutes later, he gets a reply in the affirmative, and he smiles, sending an address of the best bakery in town. (As far as he or any of his friends are concerned, anyway.) Nevermind that it’s easily an hour away by car, they both have better means of travel. Not exactly subtle ones, but it’s not like Roman hasn’t made masks and even a full costume for himself with his powers before in a pinch. 

Now that he thinks about it, he never really settled on a name for the material his boost produces - he’s tried a thousand times but nothing seems to feel right. Maybe because it’s not exactly solid or liquid, or even plasma - it seems to follow exactly zero of the laws of physics, which doesn’t really bother anyone but his uncle at this point, but still. It makes thinking of a real name for it a little difficult with nothing to compare it to. It’d just confused things when Roman admitted to his friends who’d tried to help that while he’s limited to the color red, he can make his creations any shade, going from almost white to almost black. 

( _ “No, Lo, the shade doesn’t affect how hot it gets. No I can’t control if it burns stuff, it just does. Maybe it doesn’t burn me because it’s my power? What do you mean have I tried other colors, of course I have. No I can’t make it anything but red, and why would I want to? I'd have to change my whole aesthetic.” _ )

Stepping inside the The Dusty Maple and letting the shutting door put a pause on those ideas for a moment, he stops by the counter to say hi to Nate, who’s probably working by now. They are, thankfully, and he tries not to be  _ too  _ obvious about noticing how they call someone else to come watch the front for a few minutes. 

“What are you doing here? Slow day in the hero business?”

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to come see my amazing, handsome, absolutely adorable partner at work?”

“Dork.” 

“Hey, I’m not they one about to kiss this dork, right?”

“Still a dork, and an idiot too.” 

There’s something that’s just fundamentally  _ right  _ about their conversations - no matter how it may sometimes look like arguing, it’s all playful and makes Roman feel all warm inside. Not to mention the bubbly feeling in his chest when they hold hands, or trade brief hello-goodbye-loveyou kisses, like right now. 

Of course, he  _ is _ the one who invited Baraby in the first place, so it’s a little petty to be upset when they arrive just a little too soon and interrupt, but he’s going to secretly feel that way anyways. Nate goes back to work, and offers to bring out Roman’s favorite on the house - which is really sweet and awesome of them and wow, he should probably at least go say hi to Billow before he gets too sappy to think about anything else. 

“You know, I’ve heard you and Vee talking about this place before, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually been. It’s really homey.” 

“Civilian names, Baraby, can’t have some evil mastermind discovering our secret identities, now can we?”

They both laugh, but he’s secretly glad they chose a booth off in the corner. There’s not a whole lot of room for privacy in this bakery, but then again an ex-supervillain owns it, so he’s not too worried about security. If Logan says no one dangerous is allowed in, then Roman trusts him wholeheartedly. 

“Right - ah, you said Logan runs this place?”

“Yeah, but he’s basically passed it off to the manager at this point - Nate really keeps the place together.”   
  
“I’m sure! So, did you have anything specific on your mind or is this just lunch?”

He takes just a moment to think about that - because he doesn’t actually have anything important to talk about right now, right? This is just lunch between friends. There’s no emergency, which already makes this rare among their meetings over the past two years. Every time he’s spoken with Baraby has been during or after some sort of villain incident, save for a few meetings to discuss… potentially dangerous villains. Yeah, he needs to work on his friendship skills a bit doesn't’ he? Well this can be like a sort-of fresh start, then - as Roman to Baraby, not the Red Knight to Billow. 

“No, nothing specific. I just wanted to talk, I suppose - it’s a bit of a slow day, you know?”   
  


“Mhm. That one fight earlier was all I’ve seen today, which is a bit weird. And it wasn’t even a boost, just someone who robbed a bank and ran for it. Do you think there’s some sort of… super villain convention going on today?”

“No clue. I’d ask Lo to find out, but I don’t like sending him back down that rabbithole any more than I have to. There were enough wars declared against him after changing sides in the first few months alone, and we haven’t heard anything from Miss Walliums yet, which is…”

“Terrifying and probably means she’s planning something?”

“Yeah. She’s not exactly one who’s known for ignoring slights, or  _ not  _ capitalizing on something as huge as a number-one super villain retiring, let alone becoming a hero.”

Sitting with that uncomfortable thought between them for a few moments, they are saved from having to find something else to talk about when Nate stops by their table. In their hands is Roman’s favorite, (a slice of “old fashioned” peach pie, which just means they added a lot more cinnamon and made the whipped cream from scratch) along with a miniature cake that Baraby had probably ordered before Roman arrived. From there, lighter topics are brought up until eventually. they’ve spent at least twenty minutes longer than what’s probably polite taking up a table and let their lunch come to an end. 

_ I guess not all days that start out crappy have to end that way, _ Roman muses on his way home. Sometimes life throws you a bone - lord knows he’s earned it by now. 

. . . 

Patton’s always enjoyed sunrises over sunset. Not because of any deep meaning or philosophical thinking, he just likes watching the sun rise and bring with it the lighter blues of morning. And maybe he  _ could  _ give some sort of meaning to it, but what analogy could he come up with that really describes this feeling in his chest? The light and gentle warmth and fullness that comes with having a family, with knowing that there will always be someone to come home to, no matter how awful the day’s been? 

No, he’s always been much more comfortable expressing these things through actions - words are Lolo’s thing. And isn’t it so wonderful that two people who are so different at a glance can be so close to each other, because they’ve found the deeper things that they have in common beneath what’s shown? Even when they first met, Patton knew Logan could see it just as well as he could - the way they were practically made to get along. 

There’d been months, years even, of keeping a certain amount of distance between them because that’s what was comfortable. Patton had so much love to give but had lost the trust in himself to give it freely, and Logan had been stripped of all love within him. There were games, masks, and always just a little bit of distance. 

Until Roman and Virgil had come into the picture, and changed everything and nothing at all. They shattered the barrier and Patton would always be so grateful for it, even if the kiddos probably didn’t know exactly how much they’d done. And not just for Lo - they wanted to help  _ him,  _ no matter how perfect a mask he thought he’d made for himself. It wasn’t so different from what was truly beneath, but it was buffered and polished well. But they wanted to help anyways, and he loves them so much for that. 

Help with his powers, with trauma they’d really only scratched the surface of with tidbits of a story he gave them. Puzzle pieces. A few edge pieces that didn’t indicate the full picture at all. 

Maybe Patton also prefers sunrises because they’re usually a lot quieter. He can wake with the sun, make tea and breakfast for him and his boyfriend who may or may not even be aware that it’s morning time yet, and have the whole day ahead of him. But sunsets mean the day is almost over - any plans still left in the day have to be taken care of soon, even in a sleepless city like New York. He only has so many more moments left of this date before it’s over; before Lo will insist it’s time to head home, so he can get some work done before bed or (however unlikely) finally get to bed at a reasonable time. 

He’s only got so many more moments before he runs out of time, and loses this opportunity. His hands aren’t shaking like he’d though they would be, but the words are stuck behind some invisible barrier. Pattons stuck just sitting there, glancing between Logan and the sun setting in front of them - really, the ocean would be a great view if he wasn’t so anxious. Keeping his eyes focused on one spot for more than a few seconds feels like he’s wasting time. 

“Well, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

“Uh.. what?”

“You are a romantic, Patton, but even I find it unlikely you’d drive us thirty-two miles from home to have dinner on the beach without a good reason. There’s no anniversary or other special occasion today that I’m aware of, so?” 

“Ah, yeah. You caught me, Lo. ‘M just not sure how to actually… you know, say it.”

“Roman has been very unsubtly asking me about flower preferences and table cloths for a week. However you decide to say what’s on your mind, I assure you it will not affect my answer.”

...Well leave it to curious teenagers to give up a secret like this. Actually, this makes his job a lot easier, and Patton finds himself a little thankful. 

“Well in that case!... Actually I still don’t know how to really say it, so I’m just gonna kiss you and put something in your hand, and you can choose to keep it or not.” 

Yeah, he definitely prefers sunrises overall, and he probably always will; but Patton thinks he could come to love sunsets too. 


End file.
